


snowbound

by amidnightlove



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Bottom Obi-Wan Kenobi, Dom/sub Undertones, First Time, Light Choking, M/M, Praise Kink, Sith Anakin Skywalker, Smut, Submissive Obi-Wan Kenobi, Suitless Darth Vader, Top Anakin Skywalker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:49:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25877701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amidnightlove/pseuds/amidnightlove
Summary: Sent to Ilum to investigate the sighting of a new Sith apprentice, Obi-Wan expects to simply find them and detain them.Sharing shelter with a Sith during a snowstorm was the last of his wishes.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 337
Kudos: 1257
Collections: Obikin





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> translation into spanish [available.](https://my.w.tt/sskSY0Zsvab)
> 
> this was supposed to be a long one-shot, but i haven't learned yet how to write those, so instead it has chapters of all more or less the same length.
> 
> there is not enough bottom obi-wan fic, so i'm just doing my duty.

The mission was deceptively simple: find the rumoured Sith apprentice and bring them to the Temple.

Or kill them if it came to that.

Obi-Wan hid his gloved hands on the pocket of his thick thermal jacket and began to walk out of his ship.

Ilum was just as he remembered it. Cold, snowy and deserted.

He couldn’t see clearly, the wind and snow painting the entire world in white. His vision was as clear as the instructions he had received.

The Sith apprentice they had been looking for had been seen near Ilum, so naturally, there had been the concern they would go after the Kyber crystals or attack Younglings during the Gathering.

Obi-Wan tried to ignore the cold that seemed to seep in no matter how many layers he was wearing, and walked around large snow-covered rocks, vaguely wishing he could’ve landed his ship closer to the Sith’s previous known location instead of a cliff surrounded by pines.

His boots kept sinking into the snow and again, he wondered why he had been sent by himself to stop this Sith.

 _Probably because I already stopped one once_ , he thought, feeling his fingers go numb.

He walked through a white landscape, large rocks covering him. The more he walked and ventured, the snow whipping his face became fiercer.

He knew there was a limited window before an actual snowstorm showed up, so he hurried his steps.

All around him, the cold wind blew, almost knocking him off his feet. There were distant noises that sounded like howls and roaring, but whenever he dared to use to Force, it was just him.

Obi-Wan hid his face in his scarf, the goggles he wore doing little to protect him from the climate. He kept stepping on ice and snow and wondered why the Sith couldn’t simply appear so he could be warm again.

He saw a vague tall rock that seemed to have an entrance and he walked towards it, stopping for a moment when a gust of wind nearly froze him on the spot.

All his clothes already felt wet and frigid, and he allowed himself to think for a moment of his room back in the Temple –warm and safe, with his books and his teabag collection.

He adjusted the bag on his back and when he looked back at the black wall, a figure had appeared.

Obi-Wan stopped, removing one hand from his pocket and towards his lightsaber. The metal was so cold it nearly burnt his fingers through the gloves but he grabbed it anyway.

The figure nearly blended with the rock behind them. Their outfit was completely black, a long cape billowing dramatically in the wind.

The Sith apprentice.

Obi-Wan readied himself. The figure was far from him and he had not sensed them in the Force, so it meant they were powerful.

He waited, but the other didn’t move, and his body began to numb with cold. He swallowed and took a step closer, away from the protection of the rocks and into a semi-clearing that was covered in thin ice.

Why wasn’t the Sith attacking him? Perhaps they wanted to bait him. To let Obi-Wan do the first move.

The more he approached the figure, the more he noticed physical attributes. Male, taller than him, broader. Head covered in some sort of black goggles and scarf like he wore.

All physical attributes he had seen in the holovids at the Temple.

Obi-Wan’s feet slipped into something soft that wasn’t snow and he nearly fell. The Sith took a step closer and raised an arm.

Obi-Wan tensed, waiting for the attack.

But nothing happened, except that his feet seemed glued to the soft thing. He tried to lift his right one and managed to do so after some considerable effort.

As soon as one foot was out, the trap activated.

Sharp metallic jaws pierced his left leg and Obi-Wan screamed, falling on one knee. He couldn’t see the trap clearly, but he saw blood and the pikes were inside his leg, nearly touching bone.

Red blood began to blemish the white snow under his left leg and he tried to use both hands to pull the trap apart.

Looking up, he saw the Sith Lord walk calmly towards him.

He pulled, a bit more desperately but the trap didn’t bulge and the pain he felt made him want to throw up.

 _His lightsaber_ , his mind supplied.

Obi-Wan grabbed it and activated, the pain and blood loss nearly making him dizzy.

He tried to aim his lightsaber towards the trap but then realized he could actually cut his own leg if he didn’t do it properly. Perhaps he could’ve done it, despite the snow and the wind, except the Sith kept approaching him.

Obi-Wan’s vision blurred and he changed his stance, lightsaber in front of his body. The pain was unlike anything he had felt.

His body became weak, the snow entering any gap in his clothes. The figure approached him until they nearly became clear.

“Stay there,” Obi-Wan said, but knew he couldn’t be heard above the sound of the wind.

 _The snowstorm_ , he thought as his vision darkened and his body folded on itself. Black boots approached him.

His lightsaber fell in the snow and Obi-Wan fainted. Before he did, he felt the Sith kneel next to him and a pair of strong arms hold him.

* * *

The throbbing pain in his leg woke him up.

The awareness of the rest of his body came back in pieces. Both legs naked, his pelvis and chest naked. His… entire self naked.

But covered with something heavy and soft. His back resting against some sort of mattress. Everything was warm and felt safe, but then his mind started to wake up as well.

Apart from his left leg, nothing else hurt.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes. The ceiling he was staring at was grey, just like the walls. The bed he was laying in was against a wall and rather tiny, not designed for two people.

There was a nearby sound of crackling of fire and logs and he thought of who could’ve helped him with his leg injury when he remembered.

He tensed and whipped his head to the right. He rapidly took in that the room was minuscule –a table covered with boxes and clothes, two doors— but he focused on a figure slouching on a chair right by the main door and looking at him intently.

The Sith apprentice.

He was seriously injured, otherwise he would’ve noticed such a dark force signature that seemed the cloud the room.

“Don’t get up,” the Sith said lazily, his golden eyes serious like the rest of him. He still wore the black suit, except he had discarded his cape and snow gear.

He wore the face of a young man with shoulder-length dark blond hair, a scar over his right brow.

And the look he gave to him, made Obi-Wan become fully aware that this man had taken him to this place and undressed him.

“I didn’t touch you,” the Sith said, cocking his head, “the clothes were wet.”

Obi-Wan grabbed a handful of the layers of sheets and fur blanket covering him and said nothing.

This dark side user had saved him?

It was a trick of course. There was no one else in the tiny room and when Obi-Wan used the Force he felt no one close. Only a vague sense of the Kyber crystals which indicated that he was still in Ilum.

But Ilum didn’t have rooms just like the one he was in, it was basically an abandoned planet. The room looked like a refuge, something that had taken a while to create.

Perhaps the Sith had been planning their attack for long.

The Sith blinked.

“If I were to touch you,” he continued in his deep voice, “you would know it. I would want you awake and screaming my name.”

“In pain?” Obi-Wan asked before he could stop himself. He knew what it meant, and he was not going to do anything remotely sexual with him.

The Sith shrugged, a casual move that showed off the strength of his biceps and shoulders.

“If that’s what you want, then yes,” he leaned on his chair as if to watch him closely. Obi-Wan calculated there were no more than ten steps separating them. “But I would rather you scream while I fuck into you so hard, they hear you back at your precious Temple.”

Obi-Wan swallowed and in a fluid motion, he stood up from the bed with most of his weight on his right leg. He clung the sheets to his naked body and glared at him.

“I think you are mistaken,” he said, sensing his lightsaber close but not close enough for him to grab it. The heat coming from the fireplace made him shiver pleasantly. “I am not interested.”

“Yet,” pointed the Sith with a smirk. “You’ll be begging for it soon enough.”

Obi-Wan felt his fury flare, but he tampered it with a deep breath. Fury would get him nowhere if he was prisoner of a Sith now.

His left leg began to tremble and he sat down on the edge of the bed. He became aware of some sort of bandage on the wound, something thick and rough.

“What did you put in me?” he asked quietly.

The Sith laughed, mild-surprise in his face as if he didn’t laugh often.

“Nothing, yet,” he grinned, his face becoming more boyish and carefree, “like I said, I can offer you something—”

“You know what I mean,” Obi-Wan cut him off. He had expected a duel or to simply find no one in the planet. Not this room and this person.

There was a sigh in response and the Sith crossed his arms over his broad chest.

“It was a trap for Gorgodons,” he said simply, “not for you. You fell right into it and I found you.”

Obi-Wan frowned. Gorgodons were gigantic predators natives of the planet but he had never crossed one in his path.

He thought back of the moment when he had stepped into the trap, how the other man had extended his arm. To… help him?

He had the feeling everything was wrong. Sith and Jedi didn’t get along, one did not save the other.

Obi-Wan looked at him more carefully, thinking hard. If this man had saved him then perhaps… he could be redeemed. If he wanted to chain him or use him, he would’ve when Obi-Wan had been unconscious, or simply leave him in the snow to die.

Every legend Obi-Wan had read about the Sith spoke of their cruelty, their inability to show compassion to others. He had known of that when he had faced Maul.

This man didn’t seem to have hurt him. He seemed to have helped him, taken him to a safe location as well as make sure his wound was clean.

He surely had an additional reason for saving him, but perhaps that reason didn’t involve torture.

“You saved me,” Obi-Wan said carefully. And decided to test his theory. “Thank you.”

The reaction was immediate. Genuine surprised flickered on the Sith’s face before fading into seriousness again, his Force signature placating.

“You have no idea of what I plan for you,” he replied, his golden eyes flashing. “I was very selfish when I brought you here. I didn’t want to leave such a pretty Jedi to die on the snow.”

 _Pretty_. Obi-Wan gripped the sheets tighter, wishing he knew where his clothes were.

“I wouldn’t have died,” he said calmly, ignoring how his stomach rumbled. He calculated he had been sleeping for over six hours, “but thank you.”

The Sith sprang up from his seat and walked in quick strides until he was standing in front of him –looming over him with his greater height— his face contorted in fury.

“Stop saying that,” he said flatly and pushed Obi-Wan to lay on the bed, pushing away the sheets and trying to grab a naked leg.

Obi-Wan’s heart stopped for a moment and then he was kicking him on the stomach, his right feet connecting with some sort of hard material.

It did little to affect the figure on top of him, only earning a huff.

“I’m not going to ravage you, Kenobi.”

Obi-Wan tried to regain his composure and calm his heart.

“You know me,” he said, using the Force to test the man’s words. Yes, this man was not going to harm him. But why? The fact that he was even allowed to use the Force at all was shocking.

He truly was more injured than he realized if he wasn’t using the Force to fight back. He resolved to learn more and wait, before trying to escape.

“Who doesn’t? The famous Negotiator, saving planets and looking good,” the Sith sat on the bed and placed the bandaged leg over his lap, “everyone knows you.”

“And what do I call you?” the man’s scent was something strong and wild, and Obi-Wan recognized that this man was attractive. Not that it mattered.

The Sith’s gloved hands covered the white bandages, the white wrappings covering from ankle to mid-calf.

“Darth Vader,” he replied, turned his gaze, his eyes once more focused on him.

Darth Vader, the Sith they had been looking for.

Obi-Wan now had a name, an actual appearance, the vague location of the Sith’s shelter. A confirmation that a Sith apprentice was actually real.

He let nothing of what he thought show in his face.

“Vader,” Obi-Wan repeated. The panic left his body and he wiggled until he was half seated, still extending his leg. Once again his mind focused to it, the sharp pain he felt.

Vader remained staring at him and Obi-Wan returned the gaze, clashing against the gold eyes that seemed to have him as the sole focus of attention.

They were closer now, Vader’s warm breath nearly hitting him on the face.

Obi-Wan couldn’t look away, something in it entrancing him. He had never been this close to someone who used the Force in a way so different from him.

A hand settled on his thigh, on the part that was covered by the blanket and Vader leaned closer to him, as if he too was fascinated by Obi-Wan.

The sound of something hitting the door made them separate and look at the same time at the square grey durasteel piece separating them from the outside world.

“The snowstorm,” Vader said as if he wasn’t worried about the noise.

Obi-Wan composed himself, admitting that he had allowed himself to become very physically close to this dangerous man.

He dropped his leg and stood up again, tucking the fabric to cover his body.

“The bandages need to be changed,” Vader said, and once again there was irritation in his voice.

Obi-Wan ignored him, because if the snowstorm had begun and he didn’t know where his stuff was, then neither did anyone at the Temple.

They would wait for a few days if he didn’t reach out. And then likely send a rescue team, but that would take a long time.

Was that what Vader was counting on? That someone would come for him?

Obi-Wan took a step with his left leg and hissed, the weight pulling at the wounds.

“Stupid Jedi,” Vader snapped and walked next to him just to glare, “what part of stay in the bed you don’t get?”

Obi-Wan didn’t reply and limped towards the door, Vader not once stopping him.

“I thought I was pretty Jedi,” Obi-Wan said a bit out of breath, hand on the freezing door. The handle was cold and when he pulled it didn’t bulge.

“You are,” Vader came up beside him and sighed, moving a hand, unlocking something in the door.

Obi-Wan grabbed the handle again and looked at him.

“I thought I was your prisoner,” he said, baffled that Vader would simply open the door for him to leave.

“I never said that,” Vader grinned, “you can go wherever you like.”

Obi-Wan frowned, confused by Vader’s continue insistence of treating him as if they were two random people who had met by chance. He opened the door and was nearly knocked back by the gust of wind that blew inside the room.

The cold entered in every pore of his body, and he only got a glimpse of a long tunnel made up of ice and at the end of it, nothing but white.

The snowstorm. The one that would not stop for days.

Vader pushed the door sealed again with a quiet click and Obi-Wan stared at it, his body numb with cold.

He was free, according to the Sith. But he was also injured, weaponless and stranded in the middle of a snowstorm.

An arm sneaked around his middle and he was pulled against a firm chest.

“Do you understand now?” Vader whispered in his ear, every word dripping with satisfaction, “we are stuck together.”


	2. Chapter 2

Obi-Wan shivered, seeing tiny snowflakes on his arms, the pain in his leg flaring.

“Let me go,” he said but Vader pushed him so he was facing the fireplace.

The sensation of heat coming from it made him tremble from head to toe, and he found himself leaning on Vader for support.

Obi-Wan took a breath, trying to stabilize himself in every manner and come up with a plan.

Vader said nothing, only his nose rubbing at the back of Obi-Wan’s head.

He had been sent to the planet to find a Sith apprentice and bring them to the Temple. The snowstorm was a mild divergence in the plan.

He hadn’t been sent to be fraternizing with Vader and thinking about how the other smelled, or how strong the arm around him felt.

He lifted his head and looked at Vader, the shivering stopping. Vader returned the look boldly, his golden eyes reflecting the light of the fire.

“My pretty Jedi,” he said quietly and traced a gloved knuckle down Obi-Wan’s cheek.

Obi-Wan shivered for different reasons.

Vader smiled at his reaction, something more genuine that took away the seriousness he carried.

“To bed,” he ordered and let him go so he could lay again.

The bed had gotten cold in the seconds it had been devoid of Obi-Wan’s body heat.

“If I’m not your prisoner,” Obi-Wan said as he arranged the sheets, “then I want my clothes. To contact the Temple.”

“The clothes are wet,” Vader moved to the table and grabbed what Obi-Wan recognized as the Temple’s medpac, “and communications won’t work during the storm.”

Obi-Wan pursed his lips. He was right, of course.

What he still couldn’t understand was why Vader wasn’t attacking him, that in fact he was _flirting_ with him.

“If I’m not your prisoner,” he said again as Vader sat near his feet, “then what are we?”

“You’re the pretty Jedi I found in the snow and I’m making sure your pretty leg gets healed,” Vader deadpanned, lifting the bottom of the sheets to grab the bandaged leg.

Obi-Wan huffed. “I’m not pretty. Why did you save me?”

 _Why do you keep helping me_ , he thought.

“Private reasons,” Vader replied, unwrapping the bandages and throwing them to the floor until the pale leg was revealed.

Obi-Wan saw three round wounds in each side of his leg. They already seemed to be clotted, but the wound must have been quite deep for him to still feel the pain.

Vader paused and then slowly removed his gloves, putting an index finger in his mouth and tugging at it with his teeth.

He threw Obi-Wan a sly glance and winked, dropping the gloves on Obi-Wan’s lap.

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, settling on the bed.

No, this man –for unknown reasons— was not going to harm him. The thought that this Sith could be redeemed somehow returned.

Vader opened the medpac and cleaned the wound, applying bacta patches on each puncture. He seemed enraptured by the task, as if it was important to heal him.

Obi-Wan tapped into the Force, extending his senses while Vader worked on his leg. He was able to detect another cave near the one they were in and that that’s where his lightsaber was, the Kyber crystal calling to him.

Of course, Vader was no fool and had taken the weapon to a distant place where Obi-Wan couldn’t find it easily, especially if injured.

Obi-Wan would have done the same.

He looked at the holes in his body and then at the room they were in. The refuge was clearly manmade. Just like the trap he had fallen into. All unnatural creations, artificial.

Someone had created them, and judging by the focus Vader had on his leg and how his hands –one organic, one made of durasteel— didn’t flinch, then Obi-Wan was staring at their creator.

Vader gave him a brief look, as if wondering why he had gone silent, and resumed his task.

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan said quietly, tugging the sheets up to his neck. He was hungry and vaguely tired –the realization that he was simultaneously both safe in this place and with this man, and at the same time he was far from his home seeping into him. “Whatever your reasons, thank you.”

He looked down at the leg, the pain lessening as the bacta began to do its job.

Vader blinked, holding clean bandages, no sign of irritation at the words as earlier.

“You’re rather good for a Sith,” Obi-Wan said, and it was worth saying those contradictory words just to get the reaction on Vader’s face.

His eyes had gone wide and he flinched as if the words had been physical blows.

“Does no one tell you are good?” Obi-Wan asked amusedly.

As far as he and the Jedi knew, Vader had been a new addition. Not yet out in the battlefield, only seen briefly in holocams. Golden eyes, a lightsaber, always lurking in the darkest corners of planets.

“No,” Vader replied and then frowned, “why would they?”

“You have a bad Master then,” Obi-Wan moved his legs, and looked to the table to determine where he could find food. “Does your Master not praise you?”

Vader’s frown had become permanent.

“I’m not dumb, Kenobi. You think I don’t know what you’re doing?”

“What am I doing?” Obi-Wan asked innocently with a smile. If Vader wasn’t completely consumed by the dark side not only there was hope for him, but it also meant the real threat was the Sith Master. “I’m just chatting. This is your dwelling, isn’t it? And if I’m not your prisoner, then I’m your guest. Which means you’re obliged to do polite conversation with me.”

Vader scoffed, finishing wrapping the white bandages around Obi-Wan’s leg and standing from the bed.

“Don’t make me regret saving you.”

“I don’t think you would kick me out,” Obi-Wan touched the bandages, lightly sending some healing energy. He would need to meditate to heal faster, “after all the trouble you’ve gone to keep me safe.”

Vader gave his back to him, his muscles locking. A faint pressure over the bandages appeared, something that wasn’t Obi-Wan’s hand or the wound itself, but rather as if some invisible hand was grabbing him.

He felt Vader’s grip through the Force and he bit back a groan, trying not to move.

“As you can see,” Vader wasn’t even looking at him and his Force grip went tighter, “I am not good.”

Obi-Wan panted, fighting the instinct to bat away the hand because there was nothing there.

Before the pain could reach unbearable levels, the grip disappeared and Obi-Wan relaxed against the bed again.

The Force had not lied to him about this man harming him, but he was still dealing with a volatile person.

He sat, back against the cold wall and caressed his leg under the sheets.

Vader returned to the bed and offered him canned food with a plastoid fork.

Obi-Wan laughed. He had never been more confused in his life.

“You heal me, then you threaten me and now you feed me.”

“I won’t do it again,” Vader said quietly, his golden eyes serious and searching, “but don’t push me.”

He offered an open can of something that looked vaguely like meat and Obi-Wan snatched it, avoiding the gaze.

He had faced many enemies but never one like this. The Sith truly were deceptive.

He ate under the penetrating gaze of Vader, not raising to the bait. The lack of clothes and uncertainty about his situation making him feel oddly vulnerable.

“I’m sorry.”

Obi-Wan stopped with the fork near his mouth and looked at him. Vader had compressed his lips into a thin line, hands into fists, his own food long gone.

Something like genuine regret crossed his face and Obi-Wan carefully finished his food.

“Sorry about what?”

“You know what,” Vader replied.

“I want to hear you say it,” Obi-Wan said, swallowing. Tapping into the dark side meant no remorse, no regrets. But if Vader truly showed them…

“I…” Vader nearly snarled. “I’m sorry that I nearly hurt you and made you afraid of me. I get angry easily and you keep nagging me.”

“Are you truly sorry? I have every right to say what I want,” Obi-Wan replied, “you should control your anger, you can’t properly function if those things rule over you.”

Vader’s expression changed and he looked at the fireplace in contemplation.

“You think that because I’m Sith I’m not supposed to feel things?”

“I know you can,” Obi-Wan said, “but I don’t believe those emotions are healthy.”

He would’ve liked to have some sort of philosophical discussion, but Vader didn’t seem the type to appreciate them.

Obi-Wan let out a breath.

“I forgive you,” it was in his nature after all and he hadn’t been actually hurt, “but if you try something like that again I won’t act like the gentle Jedi you believe me to be.”

Vader’s mouth curled into a smile, the tension in him vanishing.

“I never said gentle, I said pretty,” he grabbed the cans and tossed them into the table, “if they sent you here for me, then you can’t be gentle. Gentle Jedi wouldn’t kill one of us.”

“I wasn’t sent here to kill you,” Obi-Wan tried to swallow the flavorless meat from his mouth. “I won’t kill you and you won’t kill me. Quite the situation we are in.”

Vader smiled again, something small.

“We have more in common than expected,” he said and moved to stoke the fire, absentmindedly tugging the zipper down of his suit.

Obi-Wan’s leg protested at his position and he settled on the bed again, thinking if this wasn’t a sort of weird holiday for him while he waited for the storm to die. A holiday which included a Sith he had never expected.

Vader tugged his zipper down until it reached the top of his boots and then kicked those away, only in black underwear.

“What are you doing?” Obi-Wan frowned.

Vader looked at him over his shoulder and then tugged away his underwear as well.

Obi-Wan stiffened and looked at the ceiling, becoming aware once more of his own nakedness.

He was pushed to the wall and then Vader was sliding under the sheets with him.

“Vader,” Obi-Wan tried to make himself smaller, contorting his body so it wouldn’t touch his, “what are you doing?”

“Going to bed,” there was amusement in Vader’s voice, and he settled on the tiny bed with a sigh. “It’s mine after all. You’re welcome to sleep on the floor if you don’t like it.”

The cold was already bad in the bed, the floor would be worse.

“No reason to be naked,” Obi-Wan managed to say, not knowing which position was worse. Facing him or giving his back to him.

He looked at the ceiling, his arm touching Vader’s warm chest. Something solid wound around his middle, Vader turning to a side.

“I told you,” Vader said and began to caress Obi-Wan side, “I won’t touch you, not really, until you beg for it.”

“Unlikely,” was Obi-Wan’s reply.

“First it was not interested and now unlikely? Progress.”

With the corner of his eye, Obi-Wan could see Vader’s smiling mouth. He swallowed and looked at the ceiling again, ignoring how every part of his body seemed to be touching his.

The mild cold he felt vanished now that the cramped bed had two people in it, and he understood that Vader was trying to do his own version of sharing body heat.

The arm that was around him was the mechanical one but it felt as warm as any organic one. The thumb that kept rubbing into his round hip solid and almost gentle.

Because he knew he was never going to fall asleep in that position, Obi-Wan twisted until he was on his side and facing him, the arm moving to hold him by his back.

He prepared himself to argue with Vader again, but realized that the position they were in made their faces be only centimetres away from each other.

It was worse than earlier when they had been sitting, because now they were both naked in the same bed, sharing the same breath.

Vader gave a small smile, his golden eyes almost liquid. Obi-Wan forgot about whatever he was going to say.

“It’s just the two of us now,” Vader said, moving his hand upwards until he touched Obi-Wan’s beard, “no one can see us, or will know what we’ve done.”

“I would know,” Obi-Wan whispered. The Code never said anything about not having sex with a Sith, perhaps because it was implicit that no one would do such a thing. “I won’t betray my vows. Surely somewhere in your beliefs it says you can’t do this.”

He couldn’t believe he was actually considering this, to be intimate with this man. He knew what Vader would demand of him, that it would not be a slow loving thing.

“No book said that. Not that I read much,” Vader replied and traced his finger over Obi-Wan’s jawline hurriedly, caressing the auburn bristles, “but I’m sure it says something like _‘I’m allowed to take what I want’_.”

His hand dipped lower, and he moved his thumb back and forth over Obi-Wan’s throat.

Obi-Wan swallowed, feeling the finger move when he did.

“Why did you save me?” he asked out of breath and felt a dark Force signature reach his, simply holding onto him.

The presence enveloped him, sending a wave of _possessivenesslustwant_ that made him shiver.

Vader didn’t reply, only tangled their legs but making sure the bandaged one wasn’t strained.

“Kenobi,” he whispered and his thumb went to Obi-Wan’s mouth, “my own Jedi, say yes and I’ll make you feel pleasure as you’ve never had before.”

A Jedi must never give to temptation or personal desires, especially not with a Sith.

Obi-Wan looked at him, the thumb pressing into his lips until he parted them.

Vader rubbed at his lips slowly, and Obi-Wan’s breath hitched. No one had ever gotten close to him, not in this way.

He remained unmoving and then the thumb was entering his mouth.

Obi-Wan froze and unconsciously, placed a hand on Vader’s chest; half for support, half from shock.

“You see this mouth? How my thumb feels in you?”

Obi-Wan let out a strange sound and closed his mouth around the finger. It had the vaguest taste of metal but it was warm and solid.

“Feel it,” Vader said, eyes flashing, “feel it. This is just a taste. Your mouth was made to suck cock.”

Obi-Wan whined and sucked at the thumb, moistening it.

“Well done,” Vader praised him and Obi-Wan realized that no one said he was good to him either. A heat that had nothing to do with the fire began to spread. “Think you can take my cock in your pretty lips? That it would fit?”

Obi-Wan shook his head, his tongue licking at the thumb without him even realizing it.

“No? I’m sure that you’re all the time in your knees at the Temple,” Vader used his other to grab the hand touching his chest, digging his short nails into it, “that you’ve slept with half of the Jedi.”

A snort almost escaped from Obi-Wan because what Vader was saying couldn’t be any further from the truth. He tried to tug away his hand, but it was in a tight grip.

“I can promise you this,” Vader said in a low voice and removed the thumb just to caress Obi-Wan’s lips again, “after me, you’ll forget about every single person you’ve been with. I’ll ruin you for others, the only touch and cock you’ll desire is mine.”

Obi-Wan licked his lips and said nothing, heart racing.

Vader let him go completely and shifted on the bed until his head was resting on Obi-Wan’s collarbone and the sheets and fur were covering them both.

“Goodnight,” he said.

Obi-Wan blinked, trying to process what had happened.

It took him a long time to fall asleep, the Sith’s words and how he had reacted to them, how he had sucked the man’s finger and enjoyed it, replaying in his mind for long hours.


	3. Chapter 3

The Kyber crystals called to him.

Deep within his meditation, Obi-Wan supposed that was normal. That in the place where the crystals grew, they would try to reach out to anyone who could hear them.

It had taken him a while to focus on his meditation –and ignore the man who was holding onto him, ignore their nakedness and his own rising feelings— but when he had, the reward had been immense.

The Force shone in Ilum. No wonder the Sith were after the place.

Obi-Wan directed his attention to the cave he had felt the previous day. Before it had been a quick sweep, but now not only he felt his lightsaber, he also felt another. Corrupted, bleeding pain.

Vader’s lightsaber.

But there were also… more crystal in that cave. Something that Vader was hiding there.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath and opened his eyes, staring at the wall.

At some point during the night he must’ve turned, because now his back was against a very strong and defined chest and his pelvis was slotted over another.

Their legs were still tangled, and if he focused, he could feel a soft cock touch his backside.

Obi-Wan breathed.

An arm was clutching him against said chest and he carefully rolled, sensing Vader still asleep.

Once he was resting on his other side, the arm moved to hold him by the back.

Their knees touched, every point of Obi-Wan’s body making contact with Vader’s.

Obi-Wan swallowed and looked at the younger man’s sleeping features. Their faces were so close he could differentiate each and every one of Vader’s long blond eyelashes.

He looked different, all the sharp lines and angry brow gone, softening into a relaxed face that made him look younger.

Vader was attractive and after the previous night and the moments he had spent meditating, Obi-Wan accepted that he was attracted to him.

He had been honest with himself and with the way he had acted. He had probably been attracted to him since the beginning, otherwise he would’ve emitted a firm no and keep his distance whatever the cost.

Cautiously, Obi-Wan lifted a finger a placed it over Vader’s right brow, near the scar.

Vader twitched in his sleep but didn’t wake.

_There is no emotion, there is peace._

So many times he had repeated those words and meant them, but now Obi-Wan found himself… wanting to explore the emotions Vader rose in him, not push them away.

His finger caressed a dark blond brow, almost grooming it.

Everything about this man was captivating. Everything about him was dangerous.

He traced the scar, wondering how he had gotten it and knowing that whoever had produced must’ve not survived the encounter.

Obi-Wan moved his finger lower until it reached the corner of Vader’s mouth. His finger was hit by the warmth of Vader’s breathing.

He stopped, feeling equally foolish and uncertain. If he continued with his exploration it wouldn’t be Vader who would be unable to stop, but rather himself.

He retracted the hand and tried to place it under his head, but it was grabbed before he could do it.

“Don’t stop on my account,” whispered Vader, and opened one golden eye to look at him with amusement.

Obi-Wan stopped and before he could second guess himself, kissed him.

He felt Vader’s unadulterated shock through the Force and he began to pull away after a few seconds before clearly he was doing it wrong and clearly Vader only meant sex, not kissing, but then a strong hand was holding the back of his head and Vader was kissing him back.

It was unlike any kiss Obi-Wan had had. Vader seemed to want to devour him, capturing his lips over and over and trying to add his tongue.

Obi-Wan let out a small sound and opened his mouth wider, left leg around Vader’s waist and knowing that he was probably scratching him with the bandages but neither of them caring much.

Vader’s fingers moved from his neck to his head until he was pulling at Obi-Wan’s hair, other hand grabbing the thigh that was around him.

Obi-Wan’s felt each small pull, the tugging and mild-pain sending fire to the rest of his body. He broke the kiss gasping for breath.

“Vader,” he whispered, the hand no longer pulling but rather holding him by the neck again.

Vader’s expression had gone from shocked to pleased. Something smug but full of mistrust.

“Good morning to you too, Kenobi. What made you change your mind?” he thrusted his hip slowly and Obi-Wan closed his eyes for a moment when a semi-hard cock touched his.

“Private reasons,” Obi-Wan replied and could not help but smile.

Vader huffed and let him go but kept a hand on his thigh. He searched Obi-Wan’s face for something, his body unnaturally still.

“I thought you wanted this,” Obi-Wan said carefully, heart thumping against his ribcage. Something in that golden gaze made his own cock begin to harden.

“I did,” Vader frowned and dug his nails in the thigh he was grabbing, “but yesterday you weren’t like this. So if you want me to touch you, you know what to do.”

His lips still tingled and Obi-Wan tried to get closer to him, but Vader freed him.

“Beg, Kenobi,” Vader knelt on the edge of the bed, pushing away all the blankets and fur, “beg and I’ll touch you.”

The position had bared him completely and for the first time, Obi-Wan took in the Sith’s body. He had known he was lithe and muscular, but this was the body of someone who actually worked to have a perfect body with sharp edges.

Obi-Wan felt completely soft in comparison. But clearly there was something that Vader liked about him, because a rather impressive erection was in front of him.

“Please,” Obi-Wan said, not knowing what to do with his hands and legs, only knowing that he wanted him close.

“No. You don’t even mean it,” Vader grabbed his own erection and calmly began to stroke himself.

“Please,” Obi-Wan said in a lower voice, opening his legs and attempting to move his hands lower.

Vader grabbed both with one hand, impeding any sort of movement.

“Is that how you beg to others? You’re not even trying,” he said, but his gaze moved to Obi-Wan’s erection, as if the only thing holding him back was Obi-Wan’s lack of words.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and planted his feet on the bed, so his cock and backside were fully displayed.

His cheeks were flushed and he felt exposed, never having begged anyone for anything.

“Please, Vader,” Obi-Wan nearly choked with the wave of arousal that ran through him, “please touch me, show me how good you are.”

Those words got a reaction. His hands were released and before he could comprehend, Obi-Wan was grabbed by the waist and flipped over his stomach.

His face smashed against the pillow and Obi-Wan clung to it, feeling a smack on his backside.

“Vader.”

“I’ll show you, pretty thing,” Vader grabbed his wrist again, making his shoulders pull tight, “treat you like the fuckhole you are.”

Obi-Wan made a choking noise, his legs pinned down by a strong and unyielding body.

Something hot and wet touched the base of his spine and he realized it was Vader’s cock.

“Vader, wait,” Obi-Wan struggled against the hold, twisting his neck.

“But you were begging so sweetly,” Vader’s mechanical hand smacked him again and then kneaded the place he had hit, “your tight little hole is crying for this.”

Obi-Wan closed his eyes for a moment and rutted against the bed.

“Yes, but, I’ve never—”

“Never been with a Sith? With someone who can truly give you what you want?” the cock moved back and forth, spreading pre-cum on his back. “The others didn’t know how to give you what you wanted, you wanted it to be like this, something rough. What did the Jedi do? Did you even orgasm with them?”

Obi-Wan’s cheeks had gone flaming. The words affecting him more than he had expected.

“Vader,” he tried again, his cock trapped against the bed and his body, “stop.”

“Why would I stop?” his legs were separated and the cock that had been touching him, trailed lower until the tip was resting over his entrance, “you want this. Look at you, how desperate you are.”

He was desperate, he felt desperate. He might have been inexperienced, but not ignorant. If he received no preparation it would hurt it in ways he wouldn’t find pleasant.

“I’ve never done this before,” Obi-Wan blurted out.

“I know,” Vader reassured him, his presence in the room something dark and greedy, “they could—”

“I’ve never had sex,” Obi-Wan clarified, hiding his face on the pillow.

Vader froze, the grip he had on his wrists becoming painful.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, feeling foolish once more. He shouldn’t have said anything, he shouldn’t even be doing anything with this man, his feelings had guided him and now…

“What?” Vader’s voice was flat.

Obi-Wan looked over his shoulders, at Vader’s shocked face, the pupils completely blown.

“I…I’ve never, you’re the first…” he didn’t explain himself.

Silence. A myriad of emotions crossed over Vader’s face until it settled into something Obi-Wan recognized as triumph.

“Pretty Jedi,” murmured Vader beaming, “you’re mine.”

“I belong to myself,” replied Obi-Wan calmly and tugged his wrists away to no avail, “the fact that we…”

He never finished the sentence. Once again, he was grabbed by the waist and dropped onto his back in one movement.

“No need to be so brute,” Obi-Wan squinted his eyes, his erect cock curving over his middle. Vader’s looked the same.

A mechanical hand held him by the throat and he went still, the hand squeezing carefully. Obi-Wan held onto the wrist.

Vader stared at him, searching for something. Obi-Wan didn’t dare to move, the pressure in his throat solid but not choking.

“You’re not lying,” Vader murmured in disbelief, “I’m your first.”

“Yes.”

“And last.” A gentle squeeze on his throat.

Obi-Wan didn’t reply, only lifted his hips until his cock rubbed Vader’s.

“I’ve already begged,” he was seconds away from touching himself, “Vader, please.”

Vader pulled at him and Obi-Wan nearly smacked him away because the pressure on his throat had increased but Vader kissed him.

His mind forgot about everything but the point of contact in his throat, the hold becoming uncomfortable. He couldn’t even kiss him properly.

“Anakin,” Vader said and released him.

Obi-Wan’s back hit the mattress and he took a deep breath.

“What?” he rubbed his neck carefully and looked at him. The Sith had sat over his haunches, ignoring his erection, a strange look on his face.

“My name,” he said.

Obi-Wan blinked, wondering if air had forgotten to reach his brain and he had begun to hallucinate things. He hadn’t even been properly choked, but no one had held him like that either, so he felt he was justified to exaggerate.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, and something like longing crossed Vader’s face. “Anakin.”

Vader, or rather Anakin, tugged at his thighs until they were around his waist.

Obi-Wan was rock hard and he wanted nothing than to perhaps beg again, but he thought carefully.

The Sith had given him his name. His real name, he had sensed his earnest in the Force.

He already knew so much about Anakin, all things that could lead to his arrest. Yet Anakin kept… treating with as much kindness as a Sith could.

And the position they were in. Facing each other. How Anakin had stopped his roughness after knowing of his inexperience.

“You are good,” Obi-Wan breathed. He could be redeemed; he knew that now. “You… you want me to see you, to be comfortable.”

Anakin frowned and grabbed a nearby pillow, smacking it over Obi-Wan’s side until he lifted his hips.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said quietly and rested his hips over the object. “Call me Obi-Wan.”

“Obi-Wan,” the way he said it made Obi-Wan shiver, his body ready, “don’t get used to the treatment.”

Obi-Wan laughed and grabbed him by the back of the neck until they were kissing again.

Anakin put his entire weight over him, as if attempting to make him meld with the mattress. He kissed him with the same intensity was earlier, nearly making their teeth clash on one another.

Obi-Wan crossed his legs on the back of Anakin’s waist, trying to get him closer.

His hand roamed over the expanse of the back covering him. His fingers pressed over tight muscles, sensing how hard Anakin was, in every sense.

Lips moved to his beard, and then lower until Anakin bit him on the neck. Soon his entire neck received the same treatment, small bites and sucks that Obi-Wan knew would leave a mark later.

He grinded over the hot cock against his, his breath coming out in huffs.

“Mouth or fingers?” Anakin asked, stopping at the base of Obi-Wan’s throat where his fingers had been. The flesh was thinner there and he threaded carefully, nibbling with almost softness.

“What?” the only thing he could focus were the wet lips on his neck, the tingling sensation they left behind every time Anakin bit.

Anakin huffed, and smiled. “Fingers it is.”

He placed two organic fingers over Obi-Wan’s mouth and Obi-Wan understood, opening it and placing them on his tongue.

“Suck, Obi-Wan,” Anakin said, pushing the fingers deeper. “They’ll go in you, so I can fuck you properly. So suck.”

Obi-Wan moaned, the sound getting caught off by the fingers in his mouth, because finally Anakin had pulled away enough to stroke him.

He licked and sucked at the thick fingers in an effort to make them as lubricated as possible, knowing that if two felt big, and actual cock would be worse.

Anakin touched him with the same intensity as he kissed him. Something fast and harsh, as if he didn’t care much about how to give him pleasure, but to simply give it.

He added another finger and Obi-Wan licked them all, brushing them against his teeth.

He moved his hips, trying to come but Anakin stopped, letting go of his cock and moved one hand between Obi-Wan’s opened legs.

Something prodded at his entrance and Obi-Wan stiffened, the finger entering him slowly and stretching him open.

“Relax, pretty thing,” Anakin gave him another smile, “accept me in your body. We’re just getting started.”

Another finger accompanied the other, moving back and forth, rubbing against the walls of his hole.

Obi-Wan panted and clung to Anakin’s shoulders, the Sith’s golden gaze pinning him to the bed.

“Anakin,” he said when the fingers moved past a part of him that made him tremble.

“You want another? Or are you ready for my cock?”

Anakin’s cock was dripping pre-cum on his thigh but Obi-Wan managed to produce a quiet _another_ because he already felt full and like Anakin had said they were barely starting.

The third finger went in easier, his hole more stretched and his body more relaxed.

Obi-Wan stared at the figure on top of him, who kept taking care of him.

His orders had been clear, find the Sith and detain them. Kill if necessary.

And now he was fucking himself onto the Sith’s fingers, drooling about having that cock in him.

“I’m ready,” Obi-Wan panted, “I’m ready, I’m—”

Anakin withdrew quickly and in one second, he was aligning himself in Obi-Wan’s entrance. He entered him fully in one slow movement.

Obi-Wan’s head hit the pillow in a silent scream. Anakin’s deep groan filled the room.

“Kriff, you’re tight,” Anakin’s eyes shone, stopping once he was fully sheathed in him. “Look at you. Obi-Wan, my personal fuck toy.”

Obi-Wan whimpered in a way he thought was rather pathetic. The pain was different from what he had anticipated and he was grateful he had chosen the fingers.

“Anakin,” he closed his eyes and tightened his grip around Anakin’s shoulders.

Anakin made a small sound and kissed him. He gave a tiny thrust and Obi-Wan found that the movement lessened the pain, or maybe his body was becoming used to the intrusion.

He tried to kiss back, but then Anakin began to thrust in and out in a way that made simply moan, one hand straying closer to his neglected cock.

“My pretty Jedi,” Anakin said and Obi-Wan thought for a moment that his eyes had stopped being golden, “my pretty Obi-Wan.”

He moved his hips back and forth faster, clinging to Obi-Wan’s waist for assistance. His golden eyes never leaving Obi-Wan’s flushed face.

Obi-Wan grabbed his own cock, trying to match the rhythm of the thrust with his own hand. The pain had vanished and all he felt in his body was pleasure and the vague need to never stop doing this.

Anakin tugged him closer until their pelvises touched and he fucked him with all the strength he had, drops of sweat covering his temples.

His orgasm took him by surprise. Obi-Wan had believed he would last longer, but Anakin’s cock touched that place that the fingers had earlier and then he was coming with a loud moan, his toes curling.

Anakin kept pounding into him, the fingers that had been in him moving to collect the cum in Obi-Wan’s stomach and taste it.

The sight of this Sith Lord licking his own release made Obi-Wan whimper in a way he couldn’t explain.

Anakin closed his eyes for a moment and he gave a sharp thrust, coming inside of him. Obi-Wan clenched around him, deciding he did like doing this.

He was the worst Jedi obviously, because no Jedi could ever daydream about getting debauched by their enemies.

“Feel that?” Anakin caressed Obi-Wan’s lower stomach as if he could sense the outline of his own cock. “I was your first. The first one to be here. And the last.”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan dropped his trembling legs, feeling tired and sweaty. “You were right.”

“About what?” Anakin pulled out slowly and Obi-Wan nearly told him not to do it, his body already missing him. He could feel the trickle of cum on the bed.

“I’ve never felt pleasure like that,” Obi-Wan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His entire body would hurt later, he knew, but he felt peaceful. Saying yes had been a good choice, no matter how much it clashed with his ideals.

He startled when Anakin threw himself of top of him, crushing him with his hard body.

“Anakin!” he protested. They were both sweating and out of breath, but Anakin ignored of all that to snuggle him.

“I told you, Obi-Wan,” Anakin smirked, resting his face next to his, looking satisfied, “you won’t want anyone else after me.”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes and returned the hug, pressing his lips for a moment over Anakin’s forehead. The gesture coming out of him as if they were in a relationship not… whatever they were.

Anakin looked surprised at the action but moved closer to receive another kiss.

“You were very good, Anakin,” Obi-Wan whispered, wanting to clean himself but also wanting to be embraced for a bit longer, “you were attentive and thoughtful, I enjoyed myself very much.”

Anakin snorted, but something in his face softened.

“I wasn’t,” he pressed on the marks he had left at the base of Obi-Wan’s neck, “I’m not good.”

“You were,” Obi-Wan kissed him on the forehead again, “you are.”

“’Am not,” Anakin mumbled, not looking like a dangerous Sith apprentice at all. He snuggled closer to him, closing his eyes.

Obi-Wan chuckled quietly, raking his fingers through Anakin’s long locks.

He kept the praise and the kisses, murmuring the words in Anakin’s ear for a long time. _You’re good, look what you did to me, so caring_. The Force signature that seemed to clog the room lessening the more he spoke.

He smiled to himself, feeling Anakin melt in his arms.

Obi-Wan now had a Sith to seduce to the Light side.


	4. Chapter 4

The pain from the wound faded from Obi-Wan’s leg after three days.

During those three days, the only thing they did was have sex.

Obi-Wan had never understood or truly believed that people could simply do nothing but indulge in the pleasures of the flesh. That one day he would wake up with someone’s arms around him and that that person would immediately stroke him until he orgasmed before his mind was fully awake.

It was a sort of odd vacation. One that included rarely moving from the bed and simply opening his legs to welcome Anakin in.

The attraction had not faded after their first time, only intensified.

They rarely spoke about what they truly were, Anakin would sometimes jab about _what Obi-Wan did back at his perfect Order_ and Obi-Wan would reply with things like _surely your Master doesn’t think_ …? but it was an unspoken agreement that they would not think of the outside world.

Only them mattered, them and the snowstorm that kept raging outside.

Obi-Wan stopped asking for his clothes because sometimes Anakin would cut him off mid-sentence and push him into his back and enter him so fast that Obi-Wan forgot whatever he was saying. Wearing clothes was pointless when being naked proved to be more pleasurable.

His body had quickly accustomed to Anakin and his length, always ready for him with minimal preparation.

Obi-Wan had never felt more spoiled. He had never felt better.

The guilt would come at him at points, of how much of a failure he was, but he would counter it by telling himself that he was doing good. That Anakin kept showing signs of empathy, his Force signature dark but muted. That if he could truly make Anakin stay and not Vader, then it would be a win for all of them. One less Sith.

He felt it was an impossible task sometimes, believing he could turn this man with his body and words, that it couldn’t be that simple. But then flashes of joy, and softness would cross over Anakin’s face.

Sometimes even the gold in his eyes disappeared, especially when he was about to come inside of him or Obi-Wan made him laugh by pointing out the flaws in his ridiculous plans to make the food last.

Worse, after not long, Obi-Wan realized that yes, Anakin had a perfect body and knew how to use it, but that he was genuinely enjoying bantering with him. That Anakin was bright and impulsive, and when he wasn’t talking about the dark side of the Force, he would sometimes speak of pod races he had been in, or how much he preferred the snow to sand, how he remained in shape in the tiny refuge –they needed to discuss something when they waited for the storm to pass—and he was smart but he hurt. That he was full of hurt and feelings and that his Sith master fed off that.

He had never explicitly said so, but Obi-Wan sensed it. That perhaps he wasn’t as willing to be a criminal as the Jedi thought.

Obi-Wan was creating the worst sort of attachment to him.

“Ready for the bandages to be gone?” Anakin asked as he patted his thigh so Obi-Wan could place his leg over it.

“More than ready,” Obi-Wan replied. The bandages had given him a mild itch.

Comfortable in his nakedness in a way Obi-Wan never would, Anakin arranged the leg on his thigh, ripping off the bandages.

It still amazed Obi-Wan that he was treated with kindness, that Anakin still insisted on treating his wound and that whenever they had sex he would stop for a moment to make sure Obi-Wan was fine.

His delicate treatment did fade when he entered him, the marks in Obi-Wan’s body a testament of that, but Anakin’s threatening aura had all but vanished.

“Look at that,” Anakin grabbed the bacta lotion and rubbed it over the tiny red circles on each side of Obi-Wan’s leg, “almost healed.”

Obi-Wan flexed his leg, marvelling that such deep wound had healed so quickly, and he hadn’t needed surgery.

He wondered if it would scar, but the thought didn’t worry him much.

“It is,” he agreed.

Anakin looked rather smug at that. After all, it had been him who had taken care of the injury since the very beginning.

“Walk,” he ordered, throwing all the equipment on the table, “test it if it hurts.”

Obi-Wan placed his feet on the floor and stood up. The fireplace was never off but goosebumps broke over his skin at the coldness of the place.

He had become used to the warmth of the bed, which he shouldn’t have.

Placing one foot in front of the other, he walked until he reached the door. The tiles were cool under the sole of feet.

Spinning on his heels, he turned to look at Anakin.

“No pain at all,” Obi-Wan informed, ignoring the heated gaze thrown at his way.

He stood on the tip of his toes and descended, repeating the movement a few times, but no pain appeared. The wounds were on his way to healing more than perfectly.

Grabbing the lone chair, he placed it with its back against the table and held onto it, stretching his leg.

“Are you trying to seduce me?” asked Anakin lightly, crossed legged on the bed and one hand idly touching his own cock. “Moving like that.”

Obi-Wan smiled to himself. “Maybe I am.”

He stretched his other leg and then patted the back of the chair.

“Sit.”

Anakin squinted his eyes. “Why.”

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, focusing on sending healing energy to his leg and then shifting the attention to the man in front of him.

“Sit,” he repeated, taking a step back.

Something in his face must’ve betrayed his apprehension because Anakin obeyed, sitting on the chair with his legs open and erection free.

“You want to ride me here?” he tried to guess. They had done that, very few places that hadn’t been witness of their activities.

Obi-Wan carefully walked to the bed and grabbed a pillow, holding it over his body.

He turned to look at Anakin’s expectant gaze.

“Do you want me to fuck you, my pretty Jedi?” Anakin murmured, a smile appearing on his face, “still too shy to ask what you want?”

Obi-Wan _was_ still apprehensive but he took another breath and dropped the pillow on the floor, directly in front of Anakin’s opened legs.

“You said something about my mouth, that first day,” he said, kneeling on the soft object, his body awakening.

Ever since Anakin’s comment, Obi-Wan had imagined it many times. Of how it would feel to have him in his mouth and suck him until Anakin came.

He looked at Anakin’s erection and waited, his hands on his lap.

Anakin blinked in shock but then grinned.

“Of course,” he crooned, “your pretty mouth, made to suck cock. Mine’s.”

Obi-Wan’s breath hitched but he nodded. He, after all, didn’t wish to do this with anyone else.

“Well then,” Anakin opened his legs wider and scooted closer to the edge of the chair, “there you have it. Just for you.”

Obi-Wan contemplated it. It was similar to his, and at the same time completely different. It stood stiff to attention, red and hard.

His first impulse was to open his mouth and simply swallow it, but he knew he would choke.

He hesitated, and Anakin placed one hand over his head, caressing at his auburn hair.

“Lick the tip,” he instructed quietly.

For some reason, the order and the tone of the words made Obi-Wan nearly whimper.

Obi-Wan gave a tiny flick with his pink tongue, tasting the pre-cum gathered there.

Anakin’s long sigh of satisfaction echoed in Obi-Wan’s own erection, his cock reacting to the sound.

He kept the action, little flicks and light touches, until he got used to the strong flavor.

Using his lips to wrap them over the head and suck, provoked a stronger reaction on Anakin, his thighs twitching.

“Yes, that’s it,” Anakin closed his eyes, still caressing at his hair, “go on.”

Opening his mouth wider, Obi-Wan moved his head downward, until he took Anakin’s member further in his mouth.

He stopped and quickly realized he hadn’t even gotten the entire length in his mouth. Anakin was bigger than he had prepared for.

Anakin swore in something that sounded like Huttese and Obi-Wan moaned, sucking at whatever piece he could reach.

“If you could see yourself,” Anakin panted, pupils blown, “I was right.”

His own cock was so hard it was nearly painful, and he moved one hand to touch himself.

“No,” said Anakin sharply and tugged at his hair, “no touching yourself. Hold onto me with one hand, and touch me with the other.”

Obi-Wan obeyed, idly wondering why he found it so easy to do whatever Anakin said. He wrapped one hand at the base of Anakin’s cock and kept sucking.

The actual sensation of the hard and thick cock in his tongue was beyond his imagination. His lips glided over the length, sucking and licking without stopping.

Under his other hand, Anakin’s leg muscles had tensed, as if he was containing himself with the effort not to thrust into his mouth.

 _My strange Sith lover_ , Obi-Wan thought, pulling away from a second; a string of saliva connecting them. _Still looking after me._

He was about to ask if he was doing correctly but then took in Anakin’s head fallen back in pleasure, his flushed cheeks and he got his answer.

Obi-Wan felt oddly proud of himself.

Anakin moved the hand lower until he was cradling the back of Obi-Wan’s head. The touch settled him, and Obi-Wan dove in again.

Obi-Wan hollowed his cheeks, suckling at the tip, tongue lapping over the slit and collecting the cum that he felt filling his mouth.

It took him a few moments to find a rhythm, to coordinate his hand and mouth and to relax enough to allow Anakin to go deeper.

He fought the need to touch himself and focused on bringing Anakin pleasure.

A tiny thrust from Anakin made the cock move deeper into his throat.

Obi-Wan gagged, quickly pulling away.

“Kriff, easy,” Anakin’s eye color was indiscernible now, “you were doing well.”

“You were the one who moved,” Obi-Wan rasped out, touching his own reddened mouth.

Knowing that Anakin was about to protest, and they could engage in their banter for minutes, Obi-Wan took him in his mouth again.

This time, when he felt he was about to gag, he closed his eyes and breathed. Seeking the peace and relaxation that meditation gave him, trying to relax his body.

“Eyes on me.”

Obi-Wan opened his eyes and looked up. Anakin’s expression was nothing but bliss, his chest rising and falling heavily.

At that moment, Obi-Wan realized that he could watch him forever like that. That he perhaps _wanted_ to watch him forever.

The thought nearly made him choke for different reasons.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin groaned, completely unaware of his thoughts, “mouth or face.”

Obi-Wan frowned, still sucking him off. The question seemed to enter his mind and not stay there for long. Everything had turned into ecstasy, the only thing he could focus about was what his mouth and hand were doing.

He made a questioning sound that was cut off by the cock in his mouth.

Anakin laughed. “Okay, face. Close your eyes and pull away.”

Obi-Wan obeyed, his mouth missing the filling sensation instantly. His hands strayed closer to his throbbing cock, but he did not touch himself.

He heard quiet moans and whimpered softly, and then something hot and sticky hit him on his eyelid. It dripped from his nose and cheeks, touching his mouth.

He peeked out his tongue to grab some of it and confirm his suspicions and yes, Anakin had come all over his face.

“Keep them closed,” Anakin ordered, and he heard him drop to the floor.

Resisting the urge to open his eyes, Obi-Wan gasped when a very hard and non-organic hand touched his cock.

A tongue brushed over his eyelids, Anakin licking his own release while he kept stroking him.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan protested, but it came out with a broken voice. He nearly fell to the floor when his orgasm hit, and Anakin kept licking at his face.

“Anakin,” he tried again and opened his eyes carefully, blinking against the soft light of the fireplace. His body was trembling, but Anakin tugged him close.

“You were incredible, Obi-Wan, a natural,” Anakin whispered, giving one final lick at his cheek and beard. Then he started licking his own hand, cleaning Obi-Wan’s cum.

“I would say I was,” Obi-Wan said drily, trying to wipe his face with his arm but only spreading whatever traces Anakin hadn’t cleaned all across his face. “It’s all over my face.”

“It’s a good look on you,” Anakin agreed, “you should wear it more often. As long as it’s mine.”

The words were sent in a light tone but Obi-Wan felt the undercurrent of possessiveness in them.

A loud thump on the door made him flinch and Anakin grabbed him by the waist, Obi-Wan instinctively clasping the broad shoulders.

“It’s just the storm, the ice,” Anakin reassured him, caressing Obi-Wan’s back in circles, “we’re safe here.”

The sound broke his daze and Obi-Wan realized that he was still kneeling on the pillow, cuddling with his Sith lover and that he had used his mouth to pleasure him.

He looked at Anakin, Anakin already looking at him with the same possessiveness as his words.

Obi-Wan kissed him, pushing down all his shame and dismay.

He had enjoyed it, he kept enjoying what they did, and he wasn’t going to let his consciousness ruin that.

Anakin returned the kiss, digging his hand on the small of Obi-Wan’s back.

“You were good too,” whispered Obi-Wan in his ear, breaking the kiss, “placing my needs first, making sure I’m comfortable, that I enjoy myself too.”

Anakin clutched him tighter, tensing.

“I see the goodness in you, the light,” Obi-Wan continued, a mild soreness appearing on his knees after being in the same position for so long, “I see you, Anakin.”

Anakin shook his head and pushed him to lay flat on the cold floor. It was nearly freezing, but he was also laying next to the fireplace and judging by the look Anakin was giving him, their bodies would heat up soon.

“I’m not good,” Anakin replied as he grabbed the pillow and placed it under Obi-Wan’s head. He spread Obi-Wan’s legs and sat between them, licking his lips. “I’ll show you.”

Obi-Wan arched his back, offering his body. “Show me.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm dying to write a proper sub obi-wan fic and it shows.

A warning rang through the Force and Obi-Wan woke up immediately, heart pounding and moving his hand towards his lightsaber.

His hand clashed against something hard and he blinked. There was no lightsaber and he was naked, laying in a tiny bed.

“It’s not here,” Anakin said and patted him on the back gently. “We’re safe. It’s one of the traps.”

Obi-Wan blinked and took away the hand from Anakin’s chest, the thing he had touched in his sleep instead of his lightsaber. “Traps.”

Anakin nodded and even though it must have been quite early, he looked completely awake. He moved his hand in circles, pressing into Obi-Wan’s skin.

“A Gorgodon fell into one,” he explained.

Obi-Wan tapped into the Force and yes, not far from where they were, there was a creature; its pain and fury palpable.

His own leg throbbed at the idea of what the creature was going through.

“Do they come close to the refuge often?” Obi-Wan asked and sat on the bed, combing his hair. He knew he couldn’t sleep again, not when the creature’s suffering echoed in his body.

“Yeah, that’s why the traps are there, they try to break the door,” Anakin didn’t let him go, only moved with him to hold him in his arms, “but this time they probably smelled your blood.”

Was it the creatures screams he heard? Or was it just the roar of the wind and snow?

Obi-Wan looked at him, at Anakin’s intense features. His knee kept touching Anakin’s half-hard cock.

Anakin had never mentioned how long he had been on the planet by himself. Or when he had placed the traps. Clearly, someone sent him provisions, but the Sith’s attitude made Obi-Wan believe he had been by himself for a long time.

“See anything you like?” Anakin teased, moving his head closer for a kiss.

Anakin always touched him, always kept him close. Always sought to be _in_ him, to talk with him.

“Yes,” replied Obi-Wan and gave him a quick kiss. “But the creature…”

Anakin pushed him to lay on the bed again and deepen the kiss. Obi-Wan stopped him with a hand.

“I have to go out and help.”

“What?” Anakin looked angry, as if he couldn’t believe the kiss had been interrupted for that. “The Gorgodon?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan tried to get away from the bed but Anakin blocked his path. “It is suffering. Can’t you feel it?”

It wasn’t as if he particularly cared about this creature, but he could never leave anyone to suffer like that. He couldn’t have sex while there was a living being injured just footsteps away from where he was.

“I can,” Anakin frowned and it was him who moved away from the bed, walking naked to stand next to the fireplace. “You’re turning into a Jedi again, thinking you can save everywhere. The mighty Jedi, always saving everyone.”

“I’m always a Jedi,” replied Obi-Wan, looking at the door.

Anakin’s Dark Force signature flashed for a moment, his emotions letting loose.

“Anakin,” said Obi-Wan carefully, not knowing what made him so angry, “what’s wrong?”

Anakin gave his back to him.

“So egocentric and condescending, arriving on planets and pretending you’re better than anyone.” Anakin swallowed loudly. “Sometimes you go to planets and you ruin things, you don’t save people because you have a _mission_ and you can’t _interfere_.”

Obi-Wan stood up and padded until he touched Anakin’s broad back, the Sith trembling slightly. This wasn’t about the creature at all.

“Is that what happened to you?” he whispered.

Anakin said nothing, only bowing his head.

Obi-Wan pressed his lips together and hugged him from behind, resting his forehead on a tanned shoulder blade.

He hadn’t interfered many times in missions, because he had to follow the Code or because getting involved added nothing to completing the mission. He wondered what kind of life Anakin had lived, that he had expected a Jedi’s help and been denied it.

He wanted to say _I’m sorry_ , but knew Anakin wouldn’t appreciate the words, only make him angrier. That it wouldn’t change the past.

Anakin turned, his golden eyes glazed with tears, Obi-Wan’s arms still around him. He stared at him, lifting Obi-Wan’s chin with a finger.

“Do you want to save that creature?”

“I don’t want it to suffer anymore,” replied Obi-Wan.

Anakin blinked, straightening. Obi-Wan waited, sensing his inner struggle.

Every day, Anakin showed signs of empathy, of not being completely consumed by the Dark side. If he allowed Obi-Wan to do this…

“Go to bed,” said Anakin, taking a step back and out of his embrace. “And prepare yourself for me.”

“Prepare?”

Anakin walked to the table and opened one box, revealing a black fabric. Obi-Wan stopped breathing for a moment.

“You’re going out,” he said.

“You can’t go out while your leg heals,” Anakin changed quickly into his snow gear, almost glaring at him, “you don’t know the traps and there’s a snowstorm outside.”

“Anakin,” a strange emotion ran through Obi-Wan’s body and he found himself smiling. “Anakin.”

“Yes, yes, I am good and all that stuff,” Anakin snorted, pulling the hood of his jacket on.

“You are,” Obi-Wan held him again, this time from the front, his naked body against the clothed chest. “Thank you.”

Anakin’s expression softened and he pulled him for a kiss, framing his face with his gloved hands. It was a bruising kiss, one that reminded Obi-Wan that they hadn’t done anything intimate in hours.

“For you,” whispered Anakin in his ear, one hand lowering to squeeze Obi-Wan’s backside. “When I get back, I’ll fuck you. I want you with your legs open and waiting.”

Trying not to blush, Obi-Wan let him go.

“Thank you,” he replied instead, knowing of the significance of the gesture. Even if Anakin had said he had done it only because he had asked. It _was_ progress.

Anakin simply gave him a look and Obi-Wan returned to the bed.

When the door was opened, the gust of wind and snow that entered into the room nearly froze him. He only got a glimpse of nothing but white, still dark and snowy, before Anakin closed the door behind him.

Obi-Wan eyed the table and its boxes but didn’t dare to examine them. Anakin was only a few paces away and would feel his actions.

He extended the sheets and arranged the pillows, kneeling on the bed.

He sucked his fingers and moved one hand behind his back, one finger teasing his entrance. Anakin had entered him right before sleep hours ago, so he found some resistance.

He shifted, opening his legs wider and facing the wall. The finger went in and he winced, moving it up and down. He had never done it himself; Anakin took care of it every time with his hands or mouth and it never hurt when he did.

Obi-Wan took a breath and added another finger. It hurt less, his muscle memory kicking in and allowing himself to move them without discomfort.

He let out a long sigh of pleasure, closing his eyes. Outside, there was a flash of power and the waves of pain and suffering lessened, moving away from their refuge. He smiled again.

Adding a third finger proved to be more difficult, possibly because of his position. But he tried, awkwardly moving them and spreading them.

He started touching his neglected cock, collecting some pre-cum to use as lubrication.

Heat began to pool in his lower body and Obi-Wan thrusted into the empty air, wanting something to properly fill him.

He didn’t sense Anakin’s return until the gust of cold wind made him literally stop, made him realize his body was sweating, snowflakes absorbing the heat on his back.

Obi-Wan turned his head, staring into Anakin’s dark eyes. The Sith’s black gear was almost entirely white, covered in snow.

“Now that’s a sight to return to,” Anakin began to quickly undress, throwing the snow-covered clothes to the floor. He returned the gaze. “Did I tell you to stop?”

“No,” Obi-Wan rasped out, and moved his fingers again.

He remained staring at the wall, feeling prepared and opened enough. Anakin had not moved or said anything, but his gaze was nearly a physical touch. Obi-Wan removed his fingers and bent his waist, exposing his opened hole, cock hard and ready.

“You’re the most appealing sight,” Anakin murmured, walking slowly the few steps that separated them, “the prettiest slut in the galaxy.”

Obi-Wan closed his eyes again. A cold hand grabbed him by the front of his throat and he was pushed against a hard chest.

“I’m not…that.”

Anakin remained standing and his erection touched him on his lower back.

“ _My_ pretty slut,” said Anakin, carefully squeezing at his neck. “Blushing and leaking, ready to be fucked. You waited for me.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan whispered.

“Just for me.”

Obi-Wan pushed into the body holding him, his legs trembling. Anakin moved his other hand to grab at his cock, his breath hot and harsh.

“Say it.”

Obi-Wan opened his eyes and stared at the grey wall, licking his lips.

“I waited for you,” he replied, the hand stroking him calmly. “Just for you.”

“That’s right,” Anakin almost growled in his ear, gripping him tightly with both hands. “Only I get to do this with you.”

“Anakin,” there was little part of him that didn’t feel on fire and he tried to grind into whatever piece of Anakin he could find.

If Anakin kept the touch, he knew he could come quickly. But Anakin stopped his movements and moved the same hand to touch him on his entrance, easily slipping two fingers in.

“Well done,” Anakin moved the fingers. “You’re so willing, so eager to do as I say.”

Obi-Wan tried to get the fingers deeper but Anakin removed them, letting go of his throat as well.

The sudden loss nearly made him fall, placing a hand on the wall for support.

Anakin grabbed him by the hips, tugging him until his knees rested on the edge of the bed with his calves out. Obi-Wan almost whimpered when he felt the something hard and hot touch his hole.

“You’re so soft, soft everywhere,” Anakin squeezed, digging his fingers into the pale flesh he held onto, “in and out.”

“That’s…” Obi-Wan took a breath, “I thought you considered it a bad thing. Soft and compassionate.”

Anakin kissed him at the base of his neck.

“Not if it’s you,” he whispered, entering him in a slow movement. He stopped for a second, his grip making him nearly sit on his lap despite the position. “Both hands on the wall.”

Obi-Wan decided it was a good idea to have more support, because Anakin immediately started pounding into him with such strength it rocked his entire body.

The wall was cold, but his palms were so damp he didn’t feel it, only felt heat and the building pleasure.

He tried to meet the thrusts, but Anakin moved so fast and hard he didn’t have the chance.

His hands slipped and he almost fell head-first into the bed, but Anakin wound an arm around his torso and pulled him to his chest.

Anakin’s body was as sweaty as his, and he clung to the muscled arm.

“There’s something you haven’t done yet,” said Anakin, still moving in and out.

“What?” Obi-Wan could hardly understand the words.

“You haven’t screamed my name.”

Obi-Wan laughed, which quickly turned into moaning because Anakin didn’t stop, never did. He tried to move one hand to touch himself but Anakin gave him a tug, stopping him.

“Scream my name, Obi-Wan,” Anakin pressed onto the hip he was clutching, “scream and I’ll let you come.”

Obi-Wan opened his mouth and closed it, the throbbing in his cock distracting him, the sensation of Anakin’s own cock inside of him relentless.

“Fuck me well enough to make my scream, then,” he responded, sensing Anakin’s grin on the back of his head.

“My pleasure,” Anakin nearly growled.

After that, Anakin moved even faster than earlier. He let go of his chest just to grab him by the hips again, his movements so fast and hard that Obi-Wan knew that wouldn’t be able to sit properly later.

He ended up clinging to the sheets, the sounds coming out from his mouth so strange he barely recognized himself. He blindly searched for Anakin’s hand and Anakin interlocked them, digging his fingers deeper into the soft skin of his hips.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan whimpered, as Anakin’s thrusts became more erratic, “Anakin.”

“Haven’t screamed yet,” said Anakin, stopping for a moment and resting his forehead on his shoulder.

He was closer to tears than screaming, every part of his body alight, on fire. It was him who moved instead, fucking himself on Anakin’s cock, the hands giving him the support he needed.

Something about the position, or maybe the way Anakin held him so close, or maybe it was Anakin’s cock that hit his prostate, but Obi-Wan’s back arched and he was coming untouched, saying a loud and breathy _Anakin_.

His body sagged, but Anakin started moving again, slower this time. He came only a few moments later, almost collapsing on top of him.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan shook from head to toe, the orgasm leaving him boneless.

“It wasn’t a scream, but I’ll take it,” Anakin murmured, his breathing ragged. He placed his arms around Obi-Wan’s middle, kissing him on the neck. “Stay like this.”

He was too tired to ask and when the arms around his body vanished along with the cock filling him, he didn’t even question it. His curiosity peaked when he heard Anakin’s knees hit the floor.

“What are you…?”

Then Anakin’s tongue was entering him, cleaning away the cum he had put there.

“Anakin, no,” Obi-Wan almost collapsed on the bed. His hole was tender and puffy, the tongue entering him easily. “I can’t, please.”

Anakin sucked and licked the edges delicately, his tongue darting to collect cum in his mouth. Obi-Wan almost sobbed.

His body decided to betray him at that moment and Anakin caught him, helping him settle between the stained blankets.

He wiggled until he was laying on a side, panting. His skin burned where Anakin had held him, where Anakin had entered him.

Anakin lay next to him and drew him for a kiss, just pressing into his lips for a long minute. Obi-Wan was grateful for it, he had no energy for something more intense.

“What you did…” Obi-Wan said when Anakin separated, a hand tugging him close, “it was good. More than good,” he tried to find the words, but his mind betrayed him just like the rest of his body, “I’m more than pleased. I’m proud.”

Anakin grinned, almost preening. “That good?”

“The sex part was good too,” Obi-Wan agreed.

Anakin’s body shook with silent laughter, the gold in his eyes receding. He grabbed Obi-Wan’s face and stared at him, smiling.

Obi-Wan kissed him. He _was_ proud of how Anakin had saved the creature. No true Sith would’ve done that.

He almost lay on top of Anakin’s chest, listening to his rapid heartbeat, feeling a kiss land on his messy hair.

“Want to do it again?” asked Anakin, almost casually.

“Let me rest for a while,” Obi-Wan replied softly, taking a deep breath. He smiled against Anakin’s chest. “But then, yes.”


	6. Chapter 6

Anakin stared at Obi-Wan’s neck with a critical eye, squinting lightly.

“Is this ne—”

“Yes,” said Anakin and leaned his head, until his breath ghosted over the pale marked neck in front of him.

Obi-Wan sighed and exposed his throat more, feeling lips press over his skin and suck.

“Why do I even allow this?”

“Because you like me.” Anakin’s voice sounded confident.

Obi-Wan sighed again. “I do.”

He wouldn’t have allowed any of what had happened if he didn’t like Anakin.

He felt Anakin’s smile against his collarbone, but a sharp bite over it nearly startled him. He held back a whimper and the hands holding him tightened their grip.

Sitting on Anakin’s lap should’ve been uncomfortable, and he had mentioned he didn’t want to crush him, but Anakin had insisted on the position, claiming it was easier like that to access his neck.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and allowed Anakin’s mouth and lips to mark him.

He ignored the roaring of the storm outside, the periodic thumping of the ice on the door, and focused on the present moment.

Anakin wanted to brand Obi-Wan’s entire neck, creating a sort of collar made with his mouth. It had sounded ridiculous when he had said it, but Obi-Wan had started moaning with each suck and any feeling of silliness vanished.

Anakin’s teeth grabbed onto his skin, pressing down gently and then releasing it. Then he would suck the place he had bitten, only to end up licking the mark.

He repeated the process, moving up the sides of Obi-Wan’s neck. He had already done it on the back and insisted that the front needed special care.

Obi-Wan moaned quietly, clinging to the broad shoulders in front of him and giving tiny thrusts with his hips.

Anakin’s mouth was the only thing that touched him, his hands only stabilising him.

“You look so pretty with my marks on you,” murmured Anakin, nipping where throat met jaw.

Obi-Wan had not seen himself in a mirror for days and he couldn’t see anything when he looked down, but he felt them. If he pressed his fingers on his neck, a mild pain flared. One that he didn’t truly mind.

“Anakin,” he mumbled, hiding his face on Anakin’s shoulder to give more access.

The storm continued while Anakin continued to mark him in return, completely focused on him.

Obi-Wan fell in a sort of trance, vaguely aware of the sounds outside. Only the soft and wet mouth sucking him his focus.

He would miss this when he left, he thought vaguely. Miss Anakin’s unwavering focus on him, miss this unexplored side of him.

He didn’t think he could do it with someone else. Not yet, perhaps not ever. Anakin was a singularity in his life.

A sharp bite cut the skin on one of his sides and he flinched, Anakin immediately murmuring something soothing and licking at the wound.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes and pulled away, touching the place.

“Always so brute,” he murmured, caressing the tiny cut. He looked at the door and frowned.

“I thought I was good and gentle according to you,” Anakin said and pushed his hand away so he could treat the small wound with his saliva.

Obi-Wan remained staring at the door, extending his senses past the door and into the snowstorm.

There was still snow, of course, but when he paid attention… the thumping on the door had stopped, the howling of the wind had lessened.

“What’s with the door? Look at me,” Anakin snapped and purposely gave him another bite to get his attention.

Obi-Wan batted him away and sat on the bed, finally out of his lap.

“Listen, Anakin.”

Anakin frowned but complied. Obi-Wan felt a Dark Force signature join him, and together they examined the landscape.

“The snowstorm is dying,” murmured Obi-Wan, and when he said those words, a contradictory wave of both joy and sadness hit him.

He could return to the Temple, no longer secluded to the refuge. Return to the actual word.

Anakin stiffened at his words, retracting his Force signature. He stood up from the bed with clenched fists, giving his back to him.

“I can leave soon,” Obi-Wan whispered and knew Anakin had heard him by the way his fists clenched.

Once more, Anakin’s dark emotions permeated the room. His anger, his frustration, his sadness.

“Anakin,” said Obi-Wan quietly, “you said I wasn’t your prisoner, that I could leave.”

“I’m starting to regret saying that,” Anakin replied in a low tone, and turned to glare at him, golden eyes dark and intense.

He could not stay, of course. They were enemies, not a couple. Outside that door, they were a Sith and a Jedi.

“Anakin,” said Obi-Wan again, “I—”

Anakin shook his head and started stroking his half-hard cock.

“On your knees,” he ordered, “face on the pillow.”

There was still that hint of danger in him, of anger and greediness, but Obi-Wan had gotten used to all of that.

So he complied, kneeling on the bed and exposing his still mildly loose hole from their earlier activities. He clung to the pillow and looked at him, at the man that from the past few days had shown him unlimited pleasure.

Anakin returned the gaze, still stroking himself.

“Are you not—”

“Shut up,” said Anakin, walking closer but still not touching him.

Obi-Wan obeyed with a low moan, not knowing why he always did whatever Anakin ordered during sex without complaining. He liked when Anakin took control of their actions –Anakin obviously having more experience or at least more confidence than he did— but the way his entire body longed for his commands was something he knew he needed to meditate about.

Anakin walked until he was standing next to the bed, examining him.

“You’re so obedient. Do you have any idea of what you look like?”

“Yes, actually,” Obi-Wan replied, his own cock awakening.

Anakin smirked and patted a pale thigh that had the imprint of his hand.

“You look like the Jedi slut you are.”

Obi-Wan whimpered, closing his eyes.

The hand caressed the thigh and then moved to the other, ignoring his entrance altogether. The mattress dipped under the weight of Anakin’s legs.

“Full of my marks, your hole open and ready,” Anakin continued, and spanked him on the thigh, “my own Jedi fuckhole. They will never accept you back in your Order.”

A jolt went through Obi-Wan’s body at the words. They were true. If the Council found out exactly how he had spent the last couple of days, he would absolutely be expelled.

“Don’t worry,” said Anakin and the head of his cock now rested over his entrance, but not penetrating him, “you’ll always have a place by my side. I wouldn’t toss you away.”

“Anakin,” said Obi-Wan weakly, because he heard the sheer veracity of the words. Anakin wanted him to be with him.

Anakin grabbed him by the hip at the same time he sank into him in a slow movement. His other hand, cuffed both of Obi-Wan’s wrists in a hard grip, painfully tugging at his shoulders.

It was similar to how he was handled on the first day, and Obi-Wan leaned into the touch, trying to get Anakin in him faster.

“Please,” he whispered.

“See? Now I don’t even need to tell you to beg,” Anakin sounded amused. He stopped when he was completely in him but didn’t give him time to get used to the intrusion, quickly snapping his hips back and forth.

Even though they had done it earlier, Obi-Wan bit his lip because the pull in his shoulders was painful and Anakin had gone in mostly dry.

The pillow muffled his sob and he tried to rub his own cock against the sheets but Anakin kept tugging at his wrists so he would remain still.

His body loosened against the bed, the pleasure he felt with each thrust eclipsing the pain he felt.

Obi-Wan began to move his own hips to meet the thrusts, Anakin’s deep groans and moans like music to his ears.

He wanted to remember everything about it, each sound and each touch, no matter how rough Anakin was being.

“Say it,” Anakin managed to produce in a low voice, stopping his movements.

Obi-Wan whimpered, trying to get some sort of friction for his weeping cock.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin snapped, clenching his fist around his wrists. He used the other hand to grab him by the back of the neck. “Focus. And say it.”

The touch settled him, and Obi-Wan tried to focus. He knew what Anakin wanted him to say it, but his mind struggled to form the words.

“Anakin,” he turned his head to look at him, his knees shaking, “Anakin, you are bright. You are full of light and goodness, and you don’t even notice it,” he swallowed, “you don’t have to be a Sith. You can return, you could be the good man I’m convinced you are. You—”

Anakin released his neck and wrists so fast, Obi-Wan fell head-first into the pillow, a sweaty chest glued his back to his until they were joined in every possible way.

A hand finally touched him, and Anakin started thrusting again at the same time he moved his hand up and down Obi-Wan’s length.

Obi-Wan made a sharp keening sound, his trembling arms clutching the bedding. The angle was different and it allowed Anakin to fuck him deeper, hitting his prostrate.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin panted in his ear, “mine. My Obi-Wan. You’re perfect for me, made to be fucked and branded only by me.”

Anakin made something with his hand that nearly made him wail and then Obi-Wan was coming with a loud moan, while Anakin kept moving him.

His legs and arms trembled so he dropped completely on the bed, taking deep breaths and trying and failing to compose himself.

Anakin interlocked their fingers and grabbed him by the back of the throat again, his movements becoming more erratic.

Obi-Wan blinked slowly, staring at their joined hands and the bruises on his wrist. A sharp bite near his ear made him whine and then Anakin was coming with a final deep thrust, filling him with his cum.

Anakin collapsed on top of him, panting. Obi-Wan stared at their hands, trembling, his mind and thoughts murky.

“Wonderful, always so wonderful,” Anakin kissed him on a pale shoulder blade, “my pretty Jedi.”

Obi-Wan didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, so he did both. He was vaguely aware that he shouldn’t be doing any of those, but he couldn’t stop himself.

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin grabbed him by the jaw until he turned his head. “What?”

Obi-Wan tried to blink the tears from his eyes but failed, making a low noise on the back of his throat.

“I wasn’t that rough,” said Anakin and pulled out completely, not even dipping his fingers in to taste his own cum or lick him clean as he always did. “You’re not hurt.”

Anakin made him turn on his back and frowned, looking at him up and down. Obi-Wan shivered, wanting him close, being held.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin tried, his golden eyes more desperate, “speak. What is it?”

Licking his lips, Obi-Wan took a deep breath and ignored his shaking limbs and aching hole.

Anakin lifted a hand and summoned some water, supporting the back of Obi-Wan’s head so he could drink it.

Obi-Wan clung to him, taking small sips. When he finished, he wound his arms around Anakin’s middle and inhaled.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin’s voice sounded confused, his concern palpable in the Force. “Do you want… a cuddle?”

Obi-Wan laughed again, weakly wiping the tears from his eyes. He did want a cuddle from his Sith lover.

“Yes,” he murmured, closing his eyes.

He felt Anakin hold him with one arm and use the other to grab a sheet and wipe him between the legs.

The sheet cleaned him carefully, and the arm holding him caressed him on the back.

“I won’t tell them,” Obi-Wan said in a low voice, and felt like crying for different reasons, “I won’t tell the Order about you.”

Anakin froze, tensing around him. He dropped the sheet and stared at him.

Obi-Wan returned the gaze, blinking away the tears.

“I believe in you, Anakin,” he continued, gambling one final time on his hunch, “I believe you can be good. I’ll tell them I did found a Sith apprentice, a human male but that we duelled until he wounded me and then he escaped. I won’t be part of your death.”

Something flashed in Anakin’s eyes, something that made them become blue for long moments.

“I won’t tell my Master about you either,” Anakin snuggled close to him, wiping at Obi-Wan’s cheeks, “I… Obi-Wan… I…”

“I understand,” he replied and kissed him, knowing that this was the last time they would ever do this. His last night.

Anakin moved closer to him until he was laying on top of him, kissing him but slowly, his rush and forcefulness gone.

He traced the lovebites he had places in Obi-Wan’s neck with a finger, frowning.

“I apologise about my behavior earlier,” Obi-Wan said, feeling the finger press into the marks. He felt better after the water and being held. “I don’t know what overcame me.”

Anakin shrugged. “It’s fine. I think it means you like what I do to you a lot.” There was almost pride in his voice, and he grabbed Obi-Wan’s wrists. “Did I actually hurt you?” they were both bruised, shaped like his fingers.

“No,” Obi-Wan brushed away a lock of sweaty hair away from Anakin’s temple, as Anakin started massaging one, “as usual, you were rough but not hurtful. Taking care of me, not pushing my limits. Making me orgasm and even hugging me later.”

“I did,” agreed Anakin with a smile. He had stopped pretending he didn’t like the words not long ago, and actively tried to make Obi-Wan say them. He moved to the other wrist, caressing carefully.

Obi-Wan focused on the outside again, at the sound of the wind and snow falling. The storm had died completely.

Judging by Anakin’s face, he knew he had sensed the same thing. That Obi-Wan could now leave.

“Hug me again,” Obi-Wan whispered.

And Anakin did, tugging him close and kissing him, one final time.


	7. Chapter 7

A gust of cold wind and snowflakes woke him up, making him tug the fur up to his neck.

The door shut with a quiet click and Obi-Wan blinked awake, his body shivering.

“Anakin?”

He was alone in the room, not sensing Anakin in the tiny refresher either. For the first time in over a week, he was alone.

He bolted from the bed so fast he nearly got dizzy. There was little part of his body that didn’t hurt, hurt in the best way. Extending his senses, he searched for him.

Anakin was walking away from the ice tunnel, in the direction where Obi-Wan knew the other cave was. Where his own lightsaber and things were.

The cave wasn’t too far, but it would take him a while to go there and return.

Obi-Wan immediately got to work, hunching over the table and searching in each of the piled boxes. Most contained wires or bolts, more canned food, or trinkets.

He had never found what Anakin was doing on the planet, but he knew it involved the Kyber crystals somehow. The answer probably lay in the other cave.

His clothes were folded over a table and Obi-Wan touched them, the rough and bulky fabric almost strange to him. He had been naked for days.

Before putting them on, he applied bacta and bandages to his wounds one final time. Doing it by himself was odd when Anakin had always done for him, but he wanted to protect them just in case. Walking back to his ship would require hours of exercise he hadn’t tested his leg for. Sex didn’t count.

The six small holes had healed better than he had expected, and once again he thanked the Force that he hadn’t needed any sort of surgery.

Once he slid his clothes over his skin he nearly winced, the belt felt too tight, his snow gear heavy and uncomfortable. He had forgotten what it was like to be dressed.

Anakin seemed to have simply torn the part that had been pierced by the trap, leaving one of the legs of the pants shorter than the other. If he looked closely, Obi-Wan could see dried blood on the hem.

At least the bandages gave him another layer against the cold, and his boots only had some blood-speckles, fully wearable.

He left the goggles and gloves on the table, waiting.

It was indeed strange to be clothed, to not be laying on the bed and waiting for Anakin to penetrate him.

He focused on the outside once more, sensing Anakin’s dark signature on the distant cave. Doing what?

He had never asked, knowing he wouldn’t get an answer. Just like he never got an answer as to why he had been saved.

Obi-Wan stretched, the bruises and marks in his body flaring; testing the strength of his leg. Then he dropped to his knees and meditated, in a way he couldn’t earlier.

He had spent at least a week trapped in a tiny refuge, waiting for the snowstorm to end, spent the majority of those days becoming more than intimate with a Sith.

Accepting that he had liked what they had done –and that he liked Anakin despite knowing how wrong it was— his mind returned to the same question as usual.

Why had Anakin saved him?

His mind went to what little Anakin had said about him, whenever they spoke of the outside world.

_The famous Negotiator, saving planets and looking good._

_Gentle Jedi wouldn’t kill one of us._

Anakin had known him, before their first encounter. Known of the Jedi and what they did. Did he know Obi-Wan through holos? Or through whatever lies his Master fed him?

_My pretty Jedi._

Obi-Wan took a deep breath and released it, sinking into his meditation. It didn’t matter, and he could live without not knowing. Anakin had saved him and been more than good to him.

Another gust of wind and snow jolted him back to reality, the threshold of the door filled with a figure in black, snowflakes littering shoulders and hood.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan stood up and fixed his clothes.

Anakin kicked the door shut and dropped Obi-Wan’s bag on the table, removing his own goggles. His golden eyes looked at him up and down, and then Obi-Wan was being pulled against a clothed and cold chest.

Anakin kissed him as if they had been separated for months, as if they were never going to see each other again. Obi-Wan placed his hands under Anakin’s hood and wound them around the cold neck, tugging him even closer and deepening the kiss.

They had never kissed with their clothes on, and Obi-Wan found that seeing Anakin dressed was as odd as being wearing clothes again.

He was pushed against the table, nearly clashing against his bag. Anakin said nothing, but Obi-Wan moaned quietly when his bottom lip was bit with enough strength to break the skin.

“Anakin,” he said again, pulling away, almost out of breath.

Anakin lapped at the tiny wound, tucking him close to his chest. The look Anakin gave him nearly made him want to tear his clothes off and bend over the desk.

“Your things,” said Anakin flatly, his voice different from the emotions his face had. “Your lightsaber.”

Obi-Wan composed himself, licking his at the tiny cut on his lip.

When he opened it, his lightsaber was the first object he found. The metal was cold, but it was his saber and its weight was comforting. He placed it on his belt and nodded at him.

“Thank you,” he said. A small part of him believed Anakin was lying when saying he wasn’t a prisoner. But if his lightsaber was back, his things were back… “Thank you, for everything.”

“Don’t,” Anakin pulled down his hood and looked away, at the dying fireplace. “Grab your things and let’s go. I’m taking you to your ship.”

Obi-Wan hefted his bag and found it lighter, the medpac Anakin had taken and used on his injury almost depleted. Apart from his rations and another change of clothes he found more small objects.

“I added a few things,” Anakin moved closer to him, touching his hip, “food and things like that. For your trip.”

Obi-Wan smiled. “You still look after me.”

Anakin hid his face on his neck and said nothing, his anger and sadness palpable in the Force. Obi-Wan swallowed, and caress a lock of dark blond hair, inhaling.

Obi-Wan felt it too. The reluctance to leave, to go back to the real world, a world in which they were enemies.

“Stay,” Anakin said so quietly it was nearly drowned by the sound of the wind outside. “Stay. Stay with me. I’ll always look after you.”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan closed his eyes shut, pushing the unexpected tears away, “I can’t. We can’t. Things are not so simple.”

The idea of a Sith and a Jedi living together, having a sort of relationship was incomprehensible. The idea of them, but at a long term…

It wasn’t completely unappealing to Obi-Wan, of being with Anakin outside of the tiny refuge. But they would know no peace, hunted by both the Order and the Sith.

Anakin sniffed and nodded, strengthening, and carefully masking his expression.

“Let’s go,” he said.

Ilum remained unchanged, its landscape white and snowy just like when Obi-Wan had arrived. He sensed his ship relatively close, but it was Anakin who led them, yelling over the wind to step where he did, to avoid any more traps.

They encounter no other creature or people on their way, only their figures trudging through the thick snow.

The wound in Obi-Wan’s left leg made him nearly limp after a while, each step sending waves of pain through the entire limb. It seemed that no matter how good the wound looked on the outside, he was still recovering from the injury.

They stopped only for a moment under the shelter of an icy boulder just so he could inject a stim, and then kept walking.

More than once, they slipped or sank into the snow, the planet always cold and unforgiving, snowstorm or not.

When Obi-Wan slipped on ice for the third time in a row, Anakin grabbed him by the hand and didn’t let go of him. Interlocking their gloved fingers less than a second later.

It took them at least three hours of walking but Obi-Wan recognized the pine trees as soon as he saw them, his eyes wandering past the cluster of snow-covered trees until he saw the cliff.

His ship was covered with snow, almost making it camouflage with the white scenery.

Anakin stopped a few paces from it and squeezed their hands. Obi-Wan returned the touch, staring into Anakin’s dark goggles.

He tugged at the hand and kissed him, not wanting to end this, end the kisses and touches and attention.

Anakin gripped him so tight he felt the bruises he already sported become even more bruised. Anakin, as usual, kissed him like a dying man.

They didn’t care their lips were frozen, that the wind kept whipping at their clothes.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan gasped, nuzzling at a frigid cheek.

“Obi-Wan,” murmured Anakin, his voice thick with emotion.

Obi-Wan let go of their hands and took a breath. He was a Jedi, and this was a Sith. Kenobi and Vader. No more Obi-Wan and Anakin.

He looked at his ship again and walked in its direction, not looking back, aware of the dark gaze following him.

Its interior looked the same, of course. No one had entered it during his absence. It was, however, as cold as the outside.

Silent, lacking any Force signature, lacking someone smirking at him and making lewd suggestions.

Obi-Wan ignited it, waiting for the temperature to regulate itself. Almost automatically, he entered the coordinates for the Temple.

As the ship began to hum under his feet, Obi-Wan attempted to contact the Council. The signal was so weak he was able to only send his voice, indicating that he was alive and fine, and that he had found some interesting information that he would relay in his return.

Avoiding using his Force-enhanced senses, Obi-Wan took off, leaving Ilum behind.

He left the autopilot on once he entered hyperspace, and then took off his clothes, looking at himself in a mirror for the first time in days.

His auburn beard was a bit dishevelled, needing a trim. But he looked healthy, fed, and rested.

The rest of his body was different.

His thighs and arms had bruises. His back had scratches, marks of different colors. His neck looked as if a wild creature had choked and bitten him, the bruises contrasting with his pale skin. He was branded everywhere.

Obi-Wan pressed into the marks on his neck, wanting them to hurt. Not wanting to forget.

After showering, he put on his Jedi robes and felt like himself for the first time in days.

Sitting on the hard cockpit chair made him wince at the unexpected pain on his backside, and he focused on staring through the window at the pinpricks of blue and white.

He remembered his bag and opened it, removing the cans of food and clothes. At the bottom, his fingers closed over something thin and flat.

Frowning, Obi-Wan lifted a datacard.

He hadn’t brought any. And the only person who had been in contact with his bag had been…

Heart pounding, Obi-Wan inserted it in the ship’s console.

And then laughed, the relief that flooded through his body so great he nearly fell from his seat.

The datacard contained several files. Most of them dealing with Sith Lord Darth Sidious, known by many as the current Chancellor of the Republic. Others included proof of his identity, of his actions, his plans for the galaxy.

One file dealt with Ilum and the Kyber crystals, the way the Sith were already experimenting with them in an effort to make them naturally attuned to the Dark side of the Force. As a way of eliminating the process of bleeding them.

The file included data analysis and results, failed samples. The experiment had begun only months earlier, and to not much success.

One file spoke of a Sith apprentice, a young human man native of a sand covered planet, that had been freed from slavery as a child and then moulded to be the next Sith Lord. It spoke of his training in detail, the things his Master had forced him to do.

 _I added a few things_ , Anakin had said. Indeed.

Obi-Wan had been right. His instincts and heart had not lied to him. He kept smiling, opening the last file labelled ‘Obi-Wan’ that was encrypted. It required a password, and he tried to think of what word only they knew.

It wasn’t _Anakin_ , and it wasn’t his name either. He thought and then realized that, of course, the password was _pretty_.

This one only contained a short message.

_You were right about me, in a way. Find me again, and I’ll prove forever how good I’ll be to you._

_-Anakin Skywalker._

Obi-Wan pulled away the datacard and moved it close to his chest, pressing it over his heart.

“I will, Anakin,” he whispered at the empty cockpit, his heart and soul feeling three times bigger, “I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i always write happy endings, and this story is no different. they just need to solve a few things first, and then obi-wan and anakin will be together <3


End file.
